Dødsberget
by the quiet winds
Summary: "Born with the powers or cursed?" Cursed...but that was a long time ago.


"King Aesir!"

"What have I told you, Erlend? I am not to be disturbed at this hour."

Erlend tugged at his collar. "I am aware, sir, but-"

"Yes, please, go on. Tell me why you continue to interrupt my most pressing of affairs." The king sat back in his seat, expectant eyes on the servant.

"It is your wife, sir, she requests your presence."

"I am far too busy. Surely you understand that, Erlend?" There was a dangerous flash in the king's icy eyes.

"Yes, sir, of course."

And he was alone again.

He rose from his seat and turned to the balcony, slowly pushing the doors open. A harsh breeze embraced his shoulders, but he paid it no mind. Aesir's eyes fixed over the infant kingdom of Arendelle, situated at the base of the ominous _Dødsberget_ , the Mountain of Death. No man had ever scaled the peak and returned to tell of it. It provided the perfect defense against outside invaders. The citizens of Arendelle had sailed from a tiny kingdom in the Danish empire, refugees from a dictatorial king.

It was long debated as to who should begin the monarchy, and it was eventually decided that Aesir and Ellinor would be the first royal family of Arendelle. Ellinor was known for her kind heart and bright mind, Aesir for his stoic nature and strong personality.

They left the Danish empire because of a cruel, power-hungry monarch.

Little did they know that the new monarch was just the same.

Aesir claimed he wanted to help his new citizens, but the second the crown nestled in his hair, it grew talons, digging into his mind and telling him that power is the only thing that matters in this life or the next.

Aesir closed the balcony again, turning back towards the desk of his study. Two half-written letters sat side-by-side, a quill precariously perched in an inkwell nearby. The king returned to his seat, the dying light of the moon his only companion for the late hour.

 _Duke Edvin,_

 _On behalf of the country of Arendelle, we gladly accept the terms of your trade agreement and alliance. May Weselton and Arendelle forever be the closest of trade partners and defenders of the other until Hell itself freezes over._

 _Sincerely, King Aesir_

The other letter was slightly more complicated.

 _King Herleif,_

 _Your proposition is interesting to say the least. Uniting the kingdoms through marriage is a prospect that would greatly strengthen both of our nations, however I myself am already married, and my wife is yet to produce an heir. I know you spoke of having a son. Perhaps, if I were to have a daughter..._

Aesir paused, the quill hanging over the page. He was writing a death sentence for himself. If Ellinor were to learn of his betrothing their daughter, who did not even exist yet, to the prince of another kingdom, it would not end well for him.

The answer was obvious: don't tell her until the wedding.

 _Perhaps, if I were to have a daughter, she could wed your son, and unite the kingdoms when she was of age. If this proposition is legitimate, then Arendelle and the Eastern Isles would be more powerful than any of the surrounding kingdoms, and we could be the founders of an empire._

An empire.

 _A daughter we shall have. I will keep you informed. As for now, trade shall continue as normal._

 _Sincerely, King Aesir_

"Aesir!"

He bit back a groan, subtly shuffling the letters, hiding the betrothal.

"Yes, dear?"

"We have discussed this, the late night work, the hot temper...what has gotten into you lately?" Ellinor's hand tenderly traced the hair on his chin before resting on his cheek. He took it and kissed it lightly.

"I know, I am sorry."

"As you should be," she scolded gently.

He stood and pulled her against him. She laid her head against his chest as they swayed in the low light.

"I think it is high time we retire for the night," she said quietly.

Aesir smiled softly and led her down the hall and up the stairs to their suite. Upon arrival, he closed the door and kissed his wife, long and hard. She melted into his embrace and they fell onto the bed.

 _A daughter we shall have._

* * *

"You what?!"

"It was foolish, I know, but it had to be done."

Ellinor's cheeks were bright red, her face moist from sweat and tears.

"In all fairness, you were not supposed to find out until the wedding."

"Is that supposed to make this better?" Ellinor held Regine to her chest. The newborn, absolutely oblivious to her parents' anger, fell back to sleep. Ellinor sighed. "How much?"

"Pardon?"

"How much? What are we getting for this...this _sale?!_ "

"It is not a sale, it is a betrothal," Aesir said calmly, "And we will be uniting Arendelle with the Eastern Isles."

"Uniting the kingdoms?" Ellinor repeated incredulously. He gave a solemn nod. She laughed a sharp, mirthless laugh. "How long has this been?"

The look in his eyes said it all.

"I cannot believe you," she spat vengefully.

"What else was I to do?" His temper finally snapped. "The union of the kingdoms will give us the power to control all of the islands in the Norwegian sea, perhaps farther. This could be the foundation of the strongest empire of the thirteenth century and you think I should have _turned it down?_ "

"You should have spoken to me first." Her voice returned to normal, trying not to wake the babe in her arms.

"I do not have to run my decisions past you."

"When they involve our _daughter_ , they most certainly do." A breath. "When we were crowned, we agreed: no secrets. We are a team, Aesir. I am the queen, you are the king."

His temper calmed. "I cannot undo this. Not by myself. Not without war. I do not have the power."

Ellinor regarded him sadly, before turning away to tend to Regine.

Aesir took the hint and left the room, headed to the library. There had to be something he could do. He had to release Regine from the cursed marriage.

For three hours, Aesir dug through every book he could get his hands on, searching for anything with an answer. Finally, he found it. A manic grin spread across his face as he realized the implications: ending the betrothal and taking over the Eastern Isles himself. He couldn't leave quickly enough.

* * *

Destination: a cavern. The opening was narrow and small, Aesir had to hunch over in order to pass through. It widened into a round room, not much bigger than his study.

"Spirits of _Dødsberget_! I call upon thee!"

His lantern went dark, the room plunging into darkness. He tugged at his collar before regaining his courage.

"Reveal yourselves!"

Harmonious cackling echoed between the stalactites hanging overhead.

"No need to yell, now."

"We heard you the first time."

"We'd recommend a nicer tone."

Three figures descended from above. Each of their faces were half shrouded by a hood, their half-transparent figures hovering above the icy floor.

"We are the spirits of _Dødsberget._ I am Sigrun."

"Mari."

"Ylva."

"I am King Aesir," he responded in a calmer tone, kneeling regally to the spirits.

"We know who you are." Mari spoke softly, a hint of mischief in her eyes and voice. "We knew you were coming."

"We know what you seek," Ylva continued.

"Can you help me? Please, it is for my daughter."

"Yes, but we request payment in return," Sigrun said forcefully.

"Name your price," Aesir said, still on his knee.

"Ten-thousand kroner."

"Deal." He returned to his feet.

The three spirits nodded in unison, before turning and joining pale hands. They began to speak in a language that Aesir did not recognize, it must have been older than Norse, perhaps even Latin.

A sword landed at his feet.

"This will give you the power you need. It is imbued with the magic of this mountain. Kill the king, become the king-" Sigrun was cut off.

"What about his son?" Aesir interjected, cringing at the look from the spirits.

Mari chuckled quietly. "Do you have no faith in us?" No answer. Mari turned serious again. "Leave that to us."

"It is quite simple. We expect the payment upon completing your mission. We also expect the blade to be returned," Sigrun said as Aesir hefted the weapon into his hand. He could _feel_ the magic surge through his arm.

With a quick bow, he hurried off.

* * *

"King Herleif is dead. Our humble kingdom of the Eastern Isles has been transferred to the hands of King Aesir of Arendelle, as proclaimed by this document written by our late king."

The coroner paused, looking out over the sea of faces. "The king is dead. Long live the king."

"Long live the king!"

Aesir bowed to his new subjects, one hand still on his sheathed blade. The magic pulsed through him again. He could get used to this.

Three days later, he was back in Arendelle.

"Did you do it?" Ellinor immediately asked.

"Regine is no longer betrothed."

Ellinor threw her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. "Now what?"

"Now I have to return and pay the spirits what I owe. Ten thousand kroner."

She nodded hesitantly, surprised at the large sum.

"I will be back by morning, then this can be behind us." He kissed her again.

* * *

"He has returned."

The three spirits descended from the cavern ceiling again, facing a kneeling Aesir.

"Do you have our payment?" Sigrun had no patience for nonsense. Aesir stood and hefted the sack of coins towards the spirts. Ylva and Mari quickly began to count the coins, ensuring the full amount was there.

"The blade," Sigrun said, an expectant hand out.

Aesir drew the sword, magic pulsing through his veins again. He _loved_ it. The thrum of magic trailing up his arm, echoing through his ribs and caressing his heart.

 _'If you hand over that blade, you will go back to being powerless,'_ a voice snarled in the back of his skull.

"No," he whispered. Mari and Ylva immediately stopped in their counting, turning to face the king.

"Pardon?" Sigrun's voice carried a false politeness.

"No. This is my blade, magic and all." He drew a breath, straightened his back, and embraced the weight in his hand. "This is my power."

"Careful, you may not like where this goes if you continue," Mari warned.

"I am your king, you will do as I say." He held out the blade threateningly.

The three spirits all laughed cruelly. "You are no king to us." Ylva's voice carried over the laughter.

Aesir seized the magic of the blade and lunged, the tip just inches from Mari's chest. All Hell broke loose. In a matter of seconds, the spirits disarmed Aesir and forced him back to his knees on the frigid ice.

Sigrun picked up the blade. "My, my, my. Someone made a very bad choice today, sisters." She eyed the king. "This was not quite what we were expecting, dear Aesir."

He growled at the mention of his name. Sigrun pressed the tip of the blade to his cheek and dragged it downward, slicing the skin. The thin wound soon turned red.

"He bleeds," Ylva commented. "You have been named for the Gods, but you are no god here."

"Nor are you a king." Sigrun added. "You are not fit to rule this kingdom, you never have been. This was all a test. You could have easily undone the betrothal, but you wanted the power. You wanted the Eastern Isles. You came flocking to us crying for magic, so we gave you a sword with a dash of power. If you had returned the sword, we would have been fine. Paid us and never shared this story. But you tried to _fight_. You _liked_ the power too much. Now, your hunger has reduced you to what you have always been. A beast. The ice of _Dødsberget_ will forever curse your veins, as well as the veins of your family."

"I hope the power was worth it, beast," Ylva spat.

Mari leaned over and whispered into Sigrun's ear. Her lips curled into a cruel smirk. "So be it."

Spell.

Scream.

Silence.

* * *

Aesir never returned.

Ellinor was left to wonder what became of her husband. A fortnight passed since his disappearance and she finally decided to uncover the truth. Entrusting Regine to the head of the household, she took off on horseback towards the cavern of the spirits.

She was a mere hundred paces from the cavern's mouth when she heard soft footsteps. Hesitantly, she turned. A grey wolf ambled towards her, a scar on its muzzle and blue eyes showing...humanity. Familiarity. Her feet hit the snow and she knelt before the creature, who pressed its nose against her cheek affectionately.

"Aesir?" She breathed.

The creature understood, and nodded. He howled, before turning and dashing back into the thick tree cover.

Ellinor watched him disappear, then finished the short trek to the cavern.

"Spirits of _Dødsberget,_ I call upon thee!"

"What is it with you royals, thinking you can come traipsing in here whenever you wish?" Mari moaned, falling into view with her sisters.

"Forgive my intrusion," Ellinor quickly amended, landing on her knee quickly. "I simply come to ask about the fate of my husband, the king."

"I assume you met our newest guard dog," Ylva said with a slight giggle.

Ellinor nodded gravely. There was a brief lull, before she spoke up again. "What did he do to deserve such a fate?"

The three spirits looked stunned. "He did not tell you?" Their voices chimed in harmony. Ellinor shook her head.

"He came looking for power. He wanted to end the betrothal of your daughter while still holding the union of Arendelle and the Eastern Isles," Sigrun explained, her voice calm and almost kind. She felt a deep pity for the young queen.

"He murdered King Herleif?" She was appalled as the spirits nodded sagely.

"We gave him the tool to do so, an enchanted blade, but he refused to give it back. We turned him into the beast he always was." Sigrun hesitated. "The ice in his veins has spread to the whole of the royal family."

"What does that mean?" Ellinor was afraid to know the answer.

"You will be fine. Your daughter...she may not be so lucky."

She gasped. "Please! Undo the magic! I only wish to help Arendelle and its people and to raise my daughter. I do not want the empire!"

The three spirits looked at the queen, begging on her knees with tears on her cheeks, before quietly conversing with each other.

"I...I do not want the Eastern Isles! I only want Arendelle, not an empire! That was all his doing!" Ellinor's voice was quiet, pleading. She faltered when she heard the soft chanting of an ancient language.

"Stand up, Ellinor," Sigrun said quietly, extending a hand to the queen, who took it confusedly.

"The ice in her veins will remain, imbued with the magic of this mountain. She will become the Snow Queen of Arendelle, and legend will know her name. Every two-hundred years, the Snow Queen will come again in the first born daughter of the royal family," Sigrun explained. A flicker of a smile ghosted her lips at the relief in Ellinor's face. "She will be safe."

"Thank you, thank you!"

"We only have one request," Mari interrupted.

"Please tell your people to stop venturing up here. We already have enough wolves." Mari couldn't help but chuckle at the end.

"You have my word." Ellinor knelt in respect again and turned to leave.

"You should also rename the mountain," Sigrun called after her.

"Why so?"

"You will be the first person to speak to us and return to tell the tale."

"But my husband-".

"-became a beast as soon as that blade touched his hand." A pause. "Congratulations, Ellinor. You have conquered _Dødsberget._ " The three spirits bowed in respect.

"Perhaps we shall call it... _N_ _ordfjellet._ "

"The North Mountain? Quite simple, no?" Mari commented.

Ellinor shrugged and let a chuckle pass through. "Sometimes, simple is all that you need."

* * *

Regine, as foreseen by the spirits, grew to be the Snow Queen of Arendelle, known by all throughout the land.

Then came Ingrid. Then Karina. Each was more powerful than the last, each bringing Arendelle into a prosperous age.

The stories of the original rulers and Snow Queens of old fell victim to time. King Aesir was known only as the beast whose desperation from power becoming a warning to all royals. The spirits of _Dødsberget_ became nothing more than a myth, growing older and darker with each retelling. Their wolf pack still remained, fiercely defending the cavern to this day.

Elsa was the last of the line.

"Born with the powers or cursed?" Elsa's father had been asked.

"Born, and they're getting stronger."

 _'Cursed...but that was not your fault. Embrace the ice in your veins. Embrace the Snow Queen,'_ a tiny voice had whispered in young Elsa's head. She never heard the voice again.

After a disastrous coronation, leading to the Eternal Winter, Elsa was considered by many to be the wisest and kindest queen to ever rule over Arendelle.

"All hail Elsa, the Snow Queen of Arendelle!" The crowd roared on multiple occasions, following another smashing public address.

 _'Embrace the Snow Queen.'_


End file.
